


Mutualism

by orphan_account



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood, Cussing, F/F, brief marcy/keila, it's both ok, sorceress!PB
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:47:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21762472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Marceline begins a new life for the hundredth time. Having defeated the hunters, she plans to settle down and live a life as normal as possible. Get a job, live in an apartment, feed only as absolutely necessary. Vampire stuff. However, when a young sorceress offers her a deal she can't realistically refuse, Marceline may find that "normal" isn't all it's cracked up to be.Updated bi-weekly.
Relationships: Princess Bubblegum/Marceline
Comments: 23
Kudos: 117





	1. Chapter 1

Marceline pushed open the door to the Social Security office, the small bell above the door tinkling. She was greeted by a series of unenthused “welcomes”, a younger woman calling her up to the front desk.

“Hi! Can I help you?” She says, with a clearly practiced customer service voice.

“Oh, uh, yeah - see there’s this problem I’ve been having for... quite some time.” Marceline leaned over the desk, pulling a stack of papers and documentation out of the tote she was carrying. She indicates several locations on the paperwork. “See, I’d like to get this information changed.”

The clerk looks very confused, stumbling over some words for a moment before replying, “Ma’am, that information - your social security number, legal name... I can’t change any of that. You’re asking me to commit fraud.”  _ Damn, smarter than most mortals. _

Marceline reached out to touch the younger woman on the arm, letting her sunglasses fall and making eye contact. “Wouldn’t you  _ please _ make an exception, just for me?” At this point, she is speaking in a low whisper. “I... I just need to get away from someone... He’s so awful to me...”

Several seconds later, presumably having an internal debate with herself, the woman nods her head in steely resolve. “I’ll do what I can, Ms...?”

“Marceline, if you don’t mind.”  _ I can use my real name now, right? It’s been a couple centuries, and besides! No more hunters! _

“Yes, absolutely, Ms. Marceline. I’ll take care of all this for you and have it ready in a few days. Would you mind coming back on Wednesday, around this time?”

“Not at all, dear. Thank you, truly, for helping me.”

Marceline made her way back out into the sunlight, wincing as she did so. The spell she had cast protected her somewhat, but it never quite did away with the eye strain.

“Alright, Abadeer, time to get your life together.” She took a deep breath, then stepped down the first stair leading up to the imposing government building. Now, time to get ahold of some kind of job.

She had some money, understand, but the Abadeer family fund could only last so long with nobody putting into it. Marceline had been pulling out of the fund for over a century at this point, and it was going to go dry soon.

Several different businesses had come up in her search for “night shift only positions.” A coffee shop on a nearby campus, a library on the same campus, and several fast food places. Before she had gotten frustrated searching, Marceline had gone two or three pages deep on her search, leading her to the page of an all-in-one music shop that was just about ten minutes from her apartment. It didn’t offer  _ only _ night shift positions, but it was open late and she could handle day shifts from time to time. All the other jobs had fallen to the wayside - she was  _ determined _ to get this job.

So, when she walked into the shop, “Fret Not”, Marceline put on her brightest smile and walked immediately to the front counter. “Hi! I’m Marceline, you guys wouldn’t happen to have any positions available at the moment for, say, a private tutor? Or really, anything.”

The girl at the front counter was just finishing helping someone else - a smaller girl, with dyed pink hair - when Marceline approached. “Oh, yes! We’re looking for help all over the place. Here,” she reaches under the desk and hands Marceline a small stack of papers, “is everything we need to know to consider you for a position.”

Looking over the papers, and pulling out a pen, panic began to set in for Marceline.  _ I don’t know if I’ve  _ ever  _ had much of this information. _ Still, she goes about writing what she does have and filling in whatever blanks she can with lies or half-truths.

Age? 25.  _ 803 _

Degree? Music Theory.  _ Not even a half-truth. _

Prior Employment? A few coffee shops, one year as a guitar tutor during “college.”  _ Vampire? Does that count as a job? _

Instruments Known? Bass guitar, guitar, piano, violin, flute, trumpet, percussion, and many, many more.  _ The only one that isn’t a lie. _

By the end of the application, Marceline was sure there was more lie than truth on the paper. She stood with a grimace and approached the front counter, seeing a different person at the register. This was a stern-faced man, looking over a series of papers and referencing something on the computer in front of him.

“Hello, sir! I don’t know if the woman before told you I was here, but I finally finished my application.” He holds up a hand silently, in which Marceline places the stack of papers.

“Hold on here for a moment. I’ll let you know within a few minutes.” He began to slowly browse the information on the application, showing little emotion on his face.

For the vampire, the silence stretched on and on. After one minute, she was fidgeting uncomfortably with the ends of her shirt sleeves. After two, she was fighting the urge to bite her fingernails. By the end of the third minute, Marceline was about ready to scream. Then, the silence was broken.

“Fine.”

She jumped slightly, “Sorry?”

“I said fine. I’ll check on your references here, then we’ll figure it out. I’ll call you on the number provided when I’m ready to see how you’ll work out.”

“Oh. Thank you!” She turned to walk away, then spun in place. “Sorry, I didn’t get your name?”

“Just call me Melvin.”

When Marceline made her way out of the shop and got out into the street, she stopped for a moment.  _ That was, quite possibly, the strangest experience I have ever had in my life. Well, as far as jobs are concerned. _

Despite her confusion, the vampire had a slight bounce to her step - everything was going  _ extraordinarily _ well. She knew she was lucky, but wow! Everything seemed to be working out just right. She smiled to herself.  _ It’s about time I caught a break! _

_ Now what? _ It was only about noon - she didn’t want to go home yet.

After wandering the streets and debating internally for several minutes, she decided she’d stop by somewhere and have a bite to eat. While eating real food didn’t really have much of a point, it still tasted the same, so she liked to try and have a real meal every now and then.

Marceline wandered into a small, quiet cafe with plenty of shaded seating. She ordered a house-made strawberry soda and a simple salad.  _ Light food at lunch, right? _

The vampire busied herself people watching. A dad and his child - a young girl - walking to meet the mother. A group of older women coming in to the same cafe she was in. The pink-haired girl she saw at Don’t Fret earlier. That last one made her pause in her thoughts.

_ She’s not following me... right? _ After several moments of mild panic, Marceline took a deep breath and shook her head slightly.  _ No. No more hunters, remember? All is well. Just a coincidence. _ Still, for the rest of her meal, she struggled to sit comfortably.

The paranoia was so profound that, after she had left the cafe, Marceline decided that it would be best to head back to her apartment.  _ I can’t shake the feeling of being watched. The hunters are  _ gone _ Marceline. Calm down. _

As she opened the door to her apartment, so focused as she was on calming down, she failed to notice a pair of bright blue eyes watching the keypad code to her home.

* * *

When Marceline awoke, she felt deeply, uncomfortably alone. The gut-wrenching metallic scent of gore and death washed over her, filling her with a painful pang of hunger. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

Before her was a field of low, brown grass. It seemed to stretch endlessly into the starry horizon. Behind her, a great flame roared - she could feel the heat on her back, see the orange glow of the fire. She could smell the burning flesh.  _ I know this place. _ The farm where she was blooded.

By the time Marceline truly awoke, her throat was raw from screaming, and her body ached all over. She chanced a look around the room.  _ Great. Another ruined set of sheets. _ They were in bloody, ragged tatters.

Carefully, she made her way to the bathroom and began treating her self-inflicted wounds with a combination of magic and contemporary medicine.  _ Wonderful first night in a new home. _ She smiled wryly.

_ How long has it been since I ate? _ Thinking back, Marceline couldn't exactly place the last proper meal she'd had.  _ Two months? Three? _ She held an arm out in front of her. It was quaking.  _ Longer...? God, I'm a mess. _

Once she had gotten her tremors under control, Marceline went to the one window in her entire apartment - the one above her shower.  _ At least it’s dark out. I can find someone. _

She sloughed off her ruined pajamas, turning on the shower. The hot water stung on most of her wounds, but she spent the better part of an hour cleaning dried blood out of her nails and hair.  _ Some routines never change, huh? _

When Marceline finally made it out into the night, she realized she was unsure where she could go hunting. She had been in this city for only a week, and this would be her first meal as a resident. Eventually, she decided to wander until she stumbled upon a park or a club, maybe a bar.  _ I’d really rather not taste hobo skin, but if I have to settle then I will. I can’t skip meals forever. _

Inevitably, the vampire did stumble upon a bar. The neon sign bearing the name was shining brightly, but Marceline didn’t even bother to read it.  _ No point in learning the name of a place you can never visit again. _

Within a few moments, her instincts took over. She was scanning the few remaining drinkers, looking for stragglers or loners. Only a few people stood out to her, but one in particular stuck out like a sore thumb. She could see the tremors of drunkenness in the girl’s hands, the mark on her finger where a ring  _ used _ to be.  _ Oh thank fuck. _

Marceline sat down next to the girl, waving off the bartender when he told her that last call was 2 minutes ago. “Just picking up my friend.” She leaned over the stranger protectively, wrapping an arm around her. “She’s had a rough few days. Needs an escort home, as you can see.”

“Ma’am you just walked in here not one minute ago, how am I supposed to let you leave with a clearly drunk woman?”  _ God, when did mortals have such upstanding characters? Just let me eat, goddamnit. _

She stood, making eye contact with the bartender. In a practiced seething tone, she said, “And I’m supposed to leave her here with you?! No way, she’s like, my best friend!”

The woman was the first to respond. “Yeah! Bes... buds...” she trailed off into drunken grumbling.

The bartender did not look happy about his situation. “Okay, fine. Go. Get out of my goddamn bar and stop making a scene.”  _ I always did have a way with words. _

The vampire leaned over, cooing, “C’mon sweetie, let’s get you home and cleaned up.” Marceline did not intend to leave this woman alone, cold, and anemic on the streets. She really would take the woman home after her snack. Most people have their addresses publicly available.

After nearly an hour of walking in a straight line away from the bar, Marceline ducked into a dark alleyway - her prey being mercifully obedient. “Sorry ‘bout this.”

There it was. The familiar twinge of nausea, a barb of guilt deep in her gut. Feeding was a necessity. Without it, she would live - but only as an unmoving, barely-sentient husk.  _ If only I could just starve to death. _ Her mind flashed back to her dream. She shook her head roughly, trying to force the memory away.

She lifted the woman’s arm, pulling back her sleeves and searching for a place for her fangs to take hold. Feeding from the neck was messy. Dangerous. It was too easy to take too much. She had learned that lesson the hard way.  _ Focus, Marceline. Eat something and go. _

Her fangs seemed to itch with anticipation, her hunger intensifying until it was truly, cripplingly painful. Then, she bit, and the rush of sweet, metallic blood flooded her mouth. Bliss. She could feel the life returning to her limbs, reinvigorating her.  _ Finally. _

It wasn’t long before the familiar dark voice at the back of her mind came calling.  _ It’s okay to take a little more, she won’t mind. _ Her instincts fighting with her feelings.  _ What’s the life of one little mortal, for months of comfort for me? _

With a gasp, the vampire ripped her fangs out of the woman’s arm, blood spilling across the alleyway. Already, she could see the bite wounds closing.  _ At least you won’t have to live like this. _

After some time of sitting in the darkness, making sure her victim didn’t struggle breathing or show any signs of distress, Marceline began the process of digging through the woman’s wallet and searching for identifying information. Eventually, she found exactly what she was looking for - a phone, no passcode. A few seconds of swiping later and Marceline was on her way to her victim’s home.

She unlocked the door with keys from the woman’s purse, leaving the woman lying in the entryway. From somewhere within the house she heard a man yell, “Honey?! Where were you?” She locked the door from the inside and quietly pulled it closed. Time to get home and find something to do, preferably infinitely less guilt-inducing than literally eating people.

Marceline looked at her watch.  _ Damn, nearly 4 AM. I’m getting worse at this. _ She hurried back to her apartment, jumping up the stairs two at a time once she arrived. She could  _ just _ see the edges of the sun peeking over the horizon, and had been getting worried. The spell to protect her from the sun was an enormous drain on her energy.

When she flung open the door to her apartment, softly calling, “I’m hooooome!” to nobody, she froze in her tracks. Amongst the smells she was used to - old band t-shirts, blood, her own scent, and the faintest tinge of cigarette smoke - was another. Bright, clear, and distinctly  _ not _ Marceline. A cold spike of fear set itself in her gut.  _ But I thought the hunters were gone? I  _ killed _ the last one. _

She took a hesitant step into her apartment. Nothing seemed out of place, but she knew hunters were crafty. They could easily hide their tracks with magic - rewind the state of the room, mask their magical essence, hide their very being. This hunter was new - they didn’t know about her senses yet.

Marceline walked, slowly, towards her bathroom. In it, on the sink, sat a small, pink piece of paper. Curly, embellished script on the page read:

_ I know what you are. Meet me at Club Sapphire at 2 AM tomorrow morning. Or else. _

* * *

1:30 AM, Thursday morning. Marceline was, above all else, nervous. She relished the idea to prove that hunters should stay away from her forever, and yet she had no desire to kill any more than she already had. She had wanted to leave that part of herself behind when the last hunter fell nearly a decade ago.

“ID, please.” said the bouncer. She locked eyes with the large, imposing man.

“Surely you can make an exception for  _ me _ ? Right?” After several seconds of maintained eye contact, he relented.  _ Damn straight. _ Once inside the club, Marceline surreptitiously cast a spell to mildly deaden her senses - to stop the club from overwhelming her.

_ Now, to find this hunter and scare them out of their mind. _ The vampire smirked to herself. Surely, if the hunter was new, then they could be easily scared away? Still, she had no idea what her pursuer looked like, and would be waiting on them to start the confrontation between them.

Marceline started a slow walk towards the bar.  _ If nothing else, I can try to blend in a little bit. See if they give themselves away. _ She sat down, “Just a water for now.”

Her eyes scanned the dancers, waiting for something - anything - to give away the hunter. Too many looks towards her, walking in her general direction, having a familiar face.  _ Anything _ suspicious was noted.

A man sat down next to her and she almost confronted him before she smelled the reek of alcohol on his breath.  _ Should keep an eye on him still. He may be faking. _

Marceline stayed nearly motionless in her chair for a long while, periodically pretending to sip on her water. When she realized she had forgotten to breathe for the past several minutes, she glanced down at her watch to see it flick from 1:59 to 2.

Not even one second later, a girl - shorter than Marceline - sat down next to her. She seemed to have materialized from the air nearby, but Marceline wasn’t sure. Hair a deep chestnut brown, hazel eyes with bright flecks of green, and pale skin - totally unremarkable. “Hello, Marcy.” Her voice was bright and cheery.

It took every ounce of self control the vampire had not to attack her immediately.  _ Nobody _ called her Marcy. Certainly not a presumptuous young hunter that had invaded her privacy and dug through her things.

Through gritted teeth, the vampire managed to hiss out, “What do you want with me?”  _ And don’t call me Marcy. _

She held up her hands in a placating gesture. “I just want to talk.” Her eyes were earnest and clear. Her voice soft, as though attempting to reassure.  _ Naive. _

“Last time I  _ talked _ with one of you, someone died. And, if you couldn’t tell, it wasn’t me.” Marceline could see the effect she had on the other woman. Her pupils dilated, her knuckles went white as she clenched her fists.  _ Fear. Perfect. _

The woman closed her eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. “We can’t have this conversation here. Come with me.” She stood up. “I promise I’ll keep it civil.”

“I don’t.” Reluctantly, Marceline followed the woman out of the club. She faintly smelled the same scent from her apartment. Something sweet, she couldn’t place it exactly.

After they had walked a great distance away from Club Sapphire, Marceline broke the silence, “Tell me what to call you while we talk. I hate not having names.”  _ Feels too much like a feeding, then. _

“Bonnibel.” She sounded tense. Like everything in her body was telling her not to say her name.

“Well then,  _ Bonnibel _ , let’s talk about how you broke into my home, went through my things while I was out, and  _ threatened me _ .” She could see the shorter woman flinch slightly with each accusation.  _ Weak. Can’t even own up to your own sins. _

“I... I’m sorry. I had to be sure.”

“Sure of  _ what?! _ Are you so  _ useless _ as a huntress you can’t even tell a vampire apart from a human?!” Marceline was shouting. “ _ How _ do you plan to fight me?!”

Bonnibel had stopped walking. “You’re a vampire?”

Marceline wanted to slap her. She almost did. “Who do you think you’re fooling?! I’m not the last vampire for no reason, goddamnit!”

“Oh my god, you’re really a vampire!” She was literally jumping with joy.

“Are you  _ fucking _ with me?!  _ You threatened my life! _ ”

“What?  _ Oh my god!  _ No,  _ no! _ I didn’t mean it that way.” She started fumbling in a pack at her side, “Look!” Bonnibel was holding up a scrap of yellowed paper.

Marceline read it out loud, quietly, “Rogue Mage Intelligence Taskforce?” It also contained various identifying information - name, level of tested magical proficiency, height, weight. Essentially, Council-issued identification.  _ Not something a hunter would proudly carry. _

“Yes! I thought you were a sorceress trying to escape from something and being irresponsible with your magic.” She laughed a little, nervously. “Though I guess you  _ were _ being irresponsible with your magic.”

The vampire’s stomach dropped. “You’re... really not a huntress?” She stopped, physically grabbing Bonnibel by the shoulders. “Look into my eyes and tell me the truth.”

For the first time since they had met, the two made eye contact. “I promise, really. I’m not a huntress.” Marceline  _ wanted  _ to believe her.  _ I have to be sure. _

“Say I want to believe you. What could you do to prove to me that you’re not lying to my face?”

After several moments of tense silence, Bonnibel answered. “I could show you my real face? Then you’d be able to hunt me down even if I was.”

_ So this is a  _ Glamor _? Damn, she’s good. I couldn’t even tell. _ “I’m not sure how that proves it to me either way.”

“You could go and look up records of Council-employed people, and my real face would be there.”  _ The hunters never did like the Council. Too many rules. _

“Fine.” Marceline stepped away from Bonnibel, folding her arms in front of her chest. “Go on, show me.”

The young mage closed her eyes to focus for a moment.  _ Stupid. I could kill you right now. _ Then, seconds later, her form started to become indistinct and faded, the edges beginning to shimmer out of existence.

“Oh... my god. You’ve been following me  _ the whole time I’ve been here? _ ”

The response came as a small squeak, “Yes.” Bright pink, straight hair fell down either side of her face, all the way down her back, and round rimless glasses framed inquisitive blue eyes. “I’m sorry.”  _ I went out of my way to put my worries about her to rest, and I was right the whole time. _

“Just... go away. Get out of my face and don’t let me see you again.” She paused, adding, “Especially when I’m hungry. I have no desire to hurt you.” Marceline turned and began to walk towards her apartment.

“Wait!”

“What more could you possibly want, you impertinent child?!” The hurt was clear on Bonnibel’s face. Despite her anger, Marceline felt a blanket of guilt across her heart.  _ She’s young. She acts as she thinks. _ Still, she continued shouting, “You’ve stalked me and broken into my home! I’ll have to move to feel safe again. What more could you  _ possibly _ ask of me?”  _ She didn’t realize the gravity of her actions. _

“I... propose a mutually beneficial agreement.” Marceline could never have come up with something more ridiculous on her own - the declaration startled her out of her anger.

“And what, exactly, did you have in mind?”  _ Consider my interest piqued. _

“I could let you feed off me.”

The vampire sputtered for several seconds, “Are you- Do you-  _ What?! _ ”

“I don’t think your vampirism still spreads. If it did, surely you wouldn’t be the last vampire after a decade, right?” Bonnibel was fidgeting with her shirt sleeves. “And I’ve read you only need to eat once a month? I could offer you that, at least.”

_ A steady supply of willing food seems too good to be true. _ “So what’s in it for you? ‘Mutually beneficial’, right?”

“Well... I’m in the process of writing a study on various magical beings. There’s so little known about being a vampire that I could make it onto the Council, should you help me.” She held up a hand when Marceline started to question. “You let me study you, and I’ll let you eat.  _ I'll _ worry about me.” After a few moments, Bonnibel’s expression went from doubt and fear to steely resolve. She offered a hand to shake. “Deal?”

Marceline couldn’t help but find herself worried. Part of her still believed this was a ploy to get close enough to kill her. “Can we... run a trial period?”  _ I have to at least  _ try _ it, right? An immortal, willing to let me regularly feed, just for the sake of studying me? That’s potentially a decade without having to worry about food. _

Bonnibel nodded enthusiastically. “One month? We can meet once a week. If you’re still uncomfortable afterwards, or decide you hate it during the trial, then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of our lives.”

_ You’re immortal, too, y’know. That’s a long time. _ Marceline shook the hand in front of her tentatively. “You’re interesting, Bonnibel. I feel like your parents worry for your health.”  _ How much could a month hurt? _

“Can I start now?”

“Ask away.”  _ Don’t make me regret this, Bonnibel. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is - the first chapter. I spent quite a lot of time getting all this together, and hopefully it has paid off. This will be my first time in a while writing something of any significant length! I do plan on eventually introducing 
> 
> Please, let me know if you liked or didn't like it. I love reading reviews and they are a wonderful motivator to continue telling a story that I am already quite attached to.
> 
> Thanks for reading,  
> -J


	2. Chapter 2

Marceline took a deep, shaky breath. She pushed firmly on the large wooden door before her, wincing as the hinges squealed loudly - a vampire deterrent as effective as any other. She forced herself onwards, ignoring the ringing in her ears.

“Good evening, miss!” she heard a clerk call out, but elected to ignore it. _Busy._ Glancing at signage around the building, she eventually found her way to a lone bookshelf at the very back of the building. _Please still work._

She pulled on the edge of the case gently at first, lest she damage it. When it did not move, she pulled with more force and was able to dislodge it. The wall swung away with the bookshelf, revealing a small hole hewn into the stone behind the building.

 _Better get going._ Marceline pulled the secret door behind her, then jumped straight down the pit. She fell for some time, about a minute, before she landed gently on a cushion of white light. A voice she recognized called out to her, “Hey, Marceline! You aren’t dead yet!” She was grabbed around the neck by a thick, muscular arm.

“Nope, but I will be if you don’t get the hell off!” She couldn’t help but laugh - it’d been decades since she’d seen anyone she liked. Eventually, her friend relented. “How’s it been, Jake?”

“Perfectly great since _someone_ dealt with the hunters. They caused a scene every time they came in here.”

“Well, you are more than welcome.” She was standing in a bar for supernatural beings - a place she had frequented some century ago. She’d had to stop attending after some hunters figured her out. “I hate to say, but I’m not just here for pleasure - though it is nice to see you.”

“What now?” His stern expression was comforting, in a weird way. “You better not be chasing any more fuckin princesses. That was a pain in the ass.”

She remembered that one. Feisty. “Not this time. I just want some information on someone. A sorceress has... approached me with an interesting deal. I just want to make sure she’s on the level, y’know?”

“That’s a relief. I hate dealing with royal questionings.” He shuddered slightly.

“Are you _ever_ gonna let me live that down?”

“Nope! But, as far as your sorceress is concerned, all I need is a name. Then,” he cracked his fingers, “I’ll work my magic.” _Such a stupid pun._

“Bonnibel. Pink hair, strange girl. Her Council ID said she was part of the Rogue Mage Intelligence Taskforce, but I don’t buy it. She felt... young.”

Jake put his face in his hands and sighed deeply. “You said this one _wasn’t_ a princess!”

“There’s no royalty among mages, unless something’s changed within the past century. And I’m not after her!”

“Yeah, yeah. You said that last time. Look, you’re right about ‘no royalty’, but if two really powerful mages got together and had a kid... wouldn’t that kid be quite the point of public interest?”

“Oh christ, what have I gotten myself into?” Marceline sat down on a barstool, her limbs feeling leaden. She waved the bartender - a friendly blond man by the name of Finn - over to her. “Whatever the strongest ya got nowadays is.”

“As always!”

“Alright, Jake. Go do your thing.”

“I don’t even need to. This one’s such a high-profile person I already hear enough about her. Bonnibel Butler. Prodigal sorceress, gained the status at like... 102? She’s 200-something now. Quiet and bookish unless she’s interested in something, not to mention wicked smart. She’s also fiercely determined and driven - once she sets her mind on a task, there’s no stopping her.”

Marceline knocked her drink back in one go. It burned like drinking liquid sun. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Not even a little. What did you do?”

“Nothing!” She only lasted a few seconds under Jake’s accusatory gaze. “Yet.”

“Yet?! Just give it up, whatever you were planning. Of all the people to try to seduce, Marceline.”

“Woah, weren’t you listening? _She_ approached _me_ . About a _'mutually beneficial arrangement'_.”

“What?”

“I promise! Look,” she crossed her heart, “vampire’s honor!”

“Okay, okay. Start from step one.”

Marceline began regaling her friends with the tale of her recent life - starting from killing the last hunter and deciding to settle down somewhere for a few decades.

* * *

“And then, when I accused her of threatening me, she threw her ID up in my face. So I tried to scare her off and get away, but she called out to me,” Marceline mimicked a higher-pitched voice, “to _‘Wait!’_ , and so I did.”

“And...?”

“And then she said _“If you let me study you, I’ll let you feed off me.’_ and I mean, how was I supposed to say no to that?”

“Holy shit. Marceline. What have you done?”

“Nothing! That’s what I’m trying to tell you!” She corrected in her head, _Nothing yet._

“Can’t you back out of this?”

“I really, _really_ don’t want to.”

“Marceline, food isn’t hard to come by for you. Especially not in a city like this.”

“Come on, you know I don’t like thinking of people like that.” _They’re not food._

“Unless there are other vampires encroaching on your territory, you should be fine.” He hesitated, then continued, “There aren’t, are there?”

“No. I’m... well, as far as I know, I'm the only one left.”

The silence in the room was profound - even Marceline struggled to hear anything. “Have you not fed in this whole time?”

“I have. But when I do, the bites always close up. I don’t think I can sire any more vampires.” She can’t help but feel some bitter satisfaction at the idea. _No more suffering._ “It’s for the best, anyway. No reason to bring about a new coalition of hunters for one measly vampire.”

“Christ, Marceline. I had no idea.” She felt a hand rest on her shoulder, comforting.

“It’s really not that big of a deal. I’m Queen by default now, right? Plus all the feeding rights I could ever want!” Tears burned her eyes, but did not fall. _Alone._

“Yeah.” Several minutes of pained silence followed.

“Anyway, if you’re right and she isn’t a hunter...” Marceline paused for a moment before continuing, “then I’m going to go through with it.”

“Alright. You do that. Good luck, Marceline.” She could see it written on Jake’s face that he didn’t approve. _Don’t have the heart to fight anymore? Neither do I._

“Bye, Jake.” She stepped onto the well of white light at the entrance. “Bye, Finn. I’ll be back later. Don’t move too far next time you change spots.”

“You got it, Marceline.”

On her way home, she bought her first pack of cigarettes in fifty years.

* * *

After some time to digest the new information, Marceline felt confident in her ability to keep the study going as long as possible. She collapsed back into her bed - she’d been awake for about 30 hours at this point, and even her body needed sleep sometimes. _I’ll worry about Bonnibel later._

She awoke in the same field as before, fire flickering behind her. This time, in control of her hunger, she did not panic when the scent of blood washed over her. She turned around to the farmhouse burning behind her. _“I’m sorry.”_

It was a small family, five people. And she’d drained every one of them. Like cattle.

When she found herself truly awake, she was pleased to be unscathed. _Maybe I’m making progress, now that the hunters are gone?_ She snorted derisively. _Yeah, and I’ve actually been straight for the past 800 years._

She stood up, stretching with satisfying _cracks_ and _pops_. “Today’s the day, Marceline. Time to listen to a nerd ask questions for four hours.”

* * *

Marceline was on her couch, plucking away at her bass, when the doorbell rang. “Come in, it’s unlocked.” She called softly, just loud enough that the person outside might hear her. The door creaked open slowly, filling the entryway with reddish afternoon sunlight. She was hit by a wave of sweet perfume - she’d decided it was probably some kind of candy.

“Hey.” The woman approached the edge of the living room cautiously, as though afraid. Marceline smirked, “Come on, I don’t bite.”

Bonnibel giggled, then broke into full-on laughter. “Oh, come on. That’s like the worst joke you could possibly make.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” She stood up, setting her bass across where she’d previously been. “You were walking like you expected me to be hanging upside down or in a coffin or something. I had to do _something_ to ease the tension - you looked about ready to have a heart attack.”

“I’d like to meet anyone who _wouldn’t_ be nervous about entering a vampire’s home.”

“I can name at least four.”

“Are any of them vampires themselves?”

“At least one.”

“Exactly.” Bonnibel smiled, “Now, let’s get started! I have a few rudimentary things written down from our quick chat a couple days ago - but I want to know a lot more.”

“Alright, ask away, I guess.” She patted a spot on the armchair next to the couch, inviting her guest to sit.

The sorceress produced a laptop from seemingly thin air - though it was likely just tucked under her arm - then sat down to begin her interview. “Okay, let’s cover the basic differences between you and a human. What, precisely, is different?”

“Hm. Well, not as much as you think, probably. Most of my body still functions properly - my heart beats, my lungs breathe, and I can eat food just fine. There’s not really any _point_ to any of it, cuz I can live just fine without it all, but it does all work.”

“Has your pain tolerance changed at all?”

“It took a while to adjust to the fact that every major injury wasn’t going to kill me, but once I did, I kinda started shrugging it all off. Like, if I break an arm or get stabbed then it’s no big deal, generally speaking.”

“Only if you get staked through the heart?”

“In all fairness, that would kill _you_ too.”

“You have a point.”

“As far as outside forces are concerned, total destruction of the heart is the simplest method. The sun will kill me outright, though. Takes like one minute of uninterrupted exposure, and it hurts like a _motherfucker_.” She shivered, remembering one time when she’d fallen asleep with an arm exposed. It had taken nearly a week to get it back in working order.

“Anything else physical?”

“Well, you probably already know that I’m faster, stronger, and way more resilient than you, or anyone else, for that matter. I can easily run a marathon in record time without breaking a sweat, for instance, and I can punch clean through plate mail.”

Bonnibel let out a low whistle. “Got it, don’t mess with angry vampires.”

“Generally, don’t mess with the vampire.” _It should be singular, now, huh?_ Before she had a chance to start crying, Marceline started up again, “Oh, and my senses are all off the charts good. I can track scents for miles, even through difficult conditions or crowded areas. My night vision is basically perfect, duh, and I can see minute details - like where on your neck arteries are lightly pushing against the skin.”

“O-oh.”

“I can hear your heartbeat, too. But it’s faint from this far away.” They were about ten feet apart, Marceline having migrated to the opposite end of the couch. The dull _thump-thump_ of a heart usually took precedence over everything else. In this case, she found it almost soothing.

"That’s... fascinating. In a strange way.”

"It comes in handy."

Bonnibel spent several minutes typing in silence. Catching up on notes or writing new questions, Marceline couldn't tell. _Actually, with practice I can probably read what she's typing. I'll work on that later._

Instead, Marceline busied herself studying the sorceress. Her bright blue eyes, the way her hair ( _Is it dyed? Magic?_ ) was tied up in a messy bun - some strands falling down onto her face to be blown out of the way. The curve of her neck-

"Why are you staring so intently?" _I got so lost in it I didn't even see her turn towards me._

"Oh- uh. Dunno. Kinda spaced out for a sec, sorry."

"It's fine. Just... unnerving, having a predator stare at me like that." _And there it is. Just like always._

Of course, there was no way for Bonnibel to have known how close to home she was striking. "I'm not a _monster_ , Bonnibel. Apart from my diet and extreme sun aversion, I'm just as human as you." She sat up, leaning forward. "Look, I get that there's this... mystique about what I am, but it fucking hurts when people say shit like that." _Am I crying?_ She wiped her face, swallowing thickly. "I hate what I have to be more than you do, I promise."

Bonnibel sat, unmoving and quiet, until Marceline calmed herself again. Once the last of the tears had dried, she finally spoke. "I'm sorry. I had no idea." She closed her laptop, continuing, "I just assumed that, because you're different from a human in some ways, you'd be different in every other."

"S'okay. I'm used to being thought of as some kind of... emotionless feeding machine."

"Most people assume vampires exist only to... reproduce?" The sorceress paused, contemplating her wording. "To make more vampires. But I suppose that wouldn't necessarily be true."

"Of course not. I have... forever to do things. Why would I waste it on making more people feel like I do? The constant, aching hunger - the desire to hurt anyone and everyone that isn't a vampire. It's horrific."

Bonnibel didn't respond, instead her eyes unfocused and she sat, thinking, for some time. Marceline found herself staring again. _I just ate a few days ago. I should be able to control myself better than this. Is it the promise of blood that has me so... focused?_ She listened to the steady beating of the sorceress's heart. _What is she thinking about?_

Marceline followed the long, thin curve of Bonnibel's neck once more, lingering briefly when she saw the faint pulse of veins under her skin. She forced herself to move on, down the woman's arm to her long, thin fingers - resting, gently curled against her mouth. She tore her eyes away before she could fix them upon Bonnibel's lips. _She's very pretty._

"So if your hunger is constant, why do you only feed once a month?" Bonnibel's voice was impossibly soft. Was she even meant to hear that? Was the sorceress thinking out loud? Marceline decided to respond, just in case.

"I don't like feeding." She can see the surprise clearly on Bonnibel's face. _Thinking out loud, I guess._

"That doesn't make any sense." Bonnibel fixed an intense gaze onto Marceline. "If I was hungry, I'd eat. The same with any other need, like thirst or temperature."

"It's not that easy. My feeding isn't like going to get a burger. It's addictive, something I crave constantly. Even right after I eat, my stomach twists and hurts for more."

"That's... awful. Do you need to go hunting? How long has it been?"

"A few days. But, no. I don't need to eat until next month, unless I have to use a lot of energy."

"How can you ignore it for so long?"

The image of a burning barn and the smell of death flashed into Marceline's mind. "Practice, and a painful memory." After a deep breath, she said, "Can we change topics? This one is difficult to talk about. We can always come back later, but right now I need a change of pace." Bonnibel simply nodded quietly.

"Does it bother you that you can't bring any more vampires into the world?"

Marceline laughed, a cold and emotionless sound. "No. I didn't like when I let it happen before."

"Let it happen? Is it voluntary?"

"It's not like I can choose to not give someone this curse, but there are some ways to prevent someone from becoming a vampire. I made sure to sire as few as possible."

"Is it possible you do those things subconsciously now?"

"No. My go-to method was always the most reliable. See, if a non-vampire drinks my blood, they will become addicted - not just to my blood, but to me. They will be indentured, not quite human any longer." She raised a finger, silencing Bonnibel's question. "However, if they drink less than a mouthful, it will simply act as... sort of a vaccination against becoming a vampire? One or two drops is enough."

"Intriguing. May I try some?" Bonnibel looked totally serious, her face fixed in a determined stare. "So I can write about it."

"Uh, I guess? If you understand the risks. If you take too much, you'll be mine. Forever." Marceline found herself surprisingly fine with the idea. "A shadow of your former self, ever craving another taste. You may even lose your magic."

"That's fine. I haven't performed the Immortality Ritual yet. I'll die without my magic." She made her way to Marceline, sitting beside her. "Do you have a preferred method?"

"I, uh, usually cut my finger. But if you're looking for a proper dose, let's get something to put it in. So we can be sure of the amount." Bonnibel's proximity made her nervous.

"Sounds like a good plan."

* * *

Once they had made preparations, Marceline took a deep breath and cut along her wrist. The deep crimson blood flowed out rapidly, until a small puddle had formed in the dish below it. "Are you sure about this?" Her wound had healed already, leaving almost no signs - only the faintest trace of a scar.

"Yes. How can I accurately describe it without experiencing it? That's a lot of the reason I made the trial a month, as well. So you'd have time to be ready to feed again in the case you had fed recently. So I can write about it accurately." She picked up the small glass dish, staring at it closely. "Not to say I'm not nervous." She drank all of it - a little less than a sip - before Marceline could respond.

When she didn't immediately react, Marceline became worried. "Bonnibel?" She placed a hand on the younger woman's shoulder. No response. "Bonnie?" She shook the woman slightly.

"Oh! Uh, sorry." Her face is flushed, though she seems alert.

"You alright?"

"Sort of? I feel... strange. Everything is very intense."

"Yes, that tends to happen." Marceline removed her hand. _Better not to overwhelm her._

"I can hear your neighbors fighting."

"They're not usually this loud. Are you okay?"

"I kind of like it, actually. I could see this becoming a hobby, or a drug."

"Oh, no. No way. I'm not a supplier for any illicit substances." She found the idea of a 'vampire blood' as a back alley trade amusing, she'd admit.

"Even if I had meant that, I'm not sure I'd want to share." _What does that even mean?_ Before she could ask, Bonnibel said, "Is that your heart or mine?"

"If it's slow, it's mine. Yours is going wild though."

"This is a strange experience." Bonnibel stood, wincing as the couch squealed under her. "It's not entirely pleasant."

"Would you like to sleep it off?"

"I don't know if I'll be able to." A dog started barking outside, she covered her ears reflexively.

"Come on, my room is pretty quiet." Marceline tenderly wrapped a hand around Bonnibel's wrist, tugging her towards the bedroom.

Marceline had soundproofed her bedroom when she moved in, both for musical and sleeping purposes. She coaxed the distressed mage into sitting on the bed.

"This is much better. Thank you." Her voice was a low, shaky whisper. "Is it always like that for you?"

Marceline responded in a similar hushed tone, "Worse, actually. But you get used to it after a year or two."

"Will I get to do this again when you feed off me?"

"I don't know that it's strictly necessary, but it is a good precaution. The human I fed from a few nights ago didn't get a dose of my blood, but she stayed human."

"As long as we do it in here, I'll be fine."

"Understood. Now," she gently pushed the younger woman to lay down, "I think it'll be best if you sleep some, okay?" Marceline made sure to lock eyes with Bonnibel, "Please sleep?"

And she did, after a few seconds of drifting off. Marceline already felt the hitch in her power. _She's so strong. That took a lot out of me._ She sat, slowly stroking Bonnibel's hair, watching her sleep, for some time. _I shouldn't have agreed to that. I should've tested it with a smaller amount first. Anything to stop her from hurting so much._

Bonnibel's chest rose and fell gently, her heartbeat finally began to slow to normal pace. The color left her cheeks slowly. _At least she'll feel better when she wakes up._

 _I've kept everyone at arm's length since..._ The vampire shook her head, pushing past a bad memory. _She's not like that, though. She can persist on her own strength. Still, I shouldn't let myself get too close._ Bonnibel rolls onto her side, pulling the covers tighter over herself. _She's so young, she probably barely remembers when vampire hunters were a necessity to human life._

She stood, leaving the sorceress to sleep. "Night, Bonnie. I'll be here when you wake up." Marceline finds herself quietly playing scales and meaningless tunes on her bass, worrying for Bonnibel.

_Jake was right. I got it bad._

* * *

The sound of the bedroom door opening snapped Marceline out of her trancelike playing. "Hey, feeling better?" She stood, walking over to the younger woman. Bonnibel was draped in her blanket, still holding it tightly around her shoulders. Her hair had come undone, falling in a loose mess - all frizzy and beautiful in its own way - around her face.

"Yeah, it's mostly gone now."

"You slept for a few hours. It's like eleven." Marceline gently laid a hand on Bonnibel's shoulder, prompting her to look up at the vampire. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize it would affect you so much."

"You couldn't have known, right?"

"I could have guessed. I still remember what it was like when I turned."

"I'm not even sure how long ago that was. I'm not going to hold something like that against you. Besides! It was great for my research." Marceline felt like the sorceress wanted to say more, but she did not continue despite several seconds of silence.

"I don't know that it's wise to continue this." Every fiber of her being screamed at Marceline to stop talking, but she did not. "I already hurt you quite badly. If it were to get worse, I'm not sure how I'd handle that."

"I'm not _injured_ , Marceline," she realized that was the first time Bonnibel had said her name tonight, "I was just unprepared. And even disregarding that, I _asked_ you to do it, and I'd really like to do it again."

Marceline couldn't comprehend why, exactly, someone would want to subject themselves to an uncomfortable experience more than once. Outside of necessity, anyway. "Why?" It was all she could muster, her brain scrambled.

"If that is a taste of vampirism, then I want to experience it as much as I can in a non-permanent way. To write accurately." Bonnibel's face said that she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

"Fine, fine. Just. Not any time soon, give it a couple weeks. I don't want to risk you becoming truly addicted." _Even if it already sounds like you are._

"Well, with all that settled, I should really head home."

"Are you sure? I already slept, I'll be awake all night. You can stay in my bed."

"No, I'm fine. I can handle myself, really. I'm-"

"One of the most powerful sorceresses in centuries, I know."

"That's not what I was going to say, but I'm glad you went and looked me up. Saves me some explaining when my parents inevitably find out and start trying to question you." _Woah, hold up._

"You weren't going to mention that as a possibility?"

"I was going to mention it right before you bite me. One last chance to back out." _There's no way I'm backing out of this yet._

"Just- be careful on your way home."

"I will be." With a flash of pink light, Bonnibel was restored to her previous state: hair in a messy bun, clothes straight and clean. "See you next week?"

"Mhm." _Jesus christ, Bonnie. You have no idea what you're getting into, do you? Come to think of it, neither do I._

_Is this even worth it?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried really hard to make this as good as the first chapter, but honestly I don't feel I hit the nail on the head quite as well. Dialogue and personal interaction has never been a strong suit of mine.
> 
> Still, I am confident enough to publish it. This is the beginning of the relationship between Vampire and Sorceress turning into more than either of them expected.
> 
> Here's hoping everyone likes it.  
> Happy holidays, whatever you may or may not celebrate, and please don't forget to leave a review if you liked it.
> 
> Thanks as always,  
> -J


	3. Chapter 3

Warm silken sheets wrapped Marceline’s body, she struggled to remember why she was in a bed. As her mind tugged itself from the fog of sleep, she became aware of a comforting warmth not far from her. She reached a hand out, fingers brushing against soft flesh.  _ Oh, yeah. Kei. _

“Mm... Marcy?” She turned her head to face the sound and was met with a young woman looking at her sleepily. Her curly black hair covering most of her face, green eyes peeked out amongst the locks. She spoke again, “It’s morning, you should get out of here.”

Marceline wrapped her hand around the waist of the woman beside her, carefully pulling her closer. She pushed her nose into the mass of black curls and kissed atop her head. “Don’t wanna. You’re warm.”

“It’s going to be very warm for the both of us if anyone catches you here.” A kiss was gently placed against her collarbone. “C’mon. I’ll still be here when you come back tonight.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be back, Kei.” Marceline forced herself away from the pleasant warmth of the bed. As she dressed, a voice softly called her.

“Hey, Marcy? Would you make me a vampire?” She froze, a cold spike of dread setting itself in her stomach.

“I... don’t think that’s a good idea, Kei.” She turned to face the young human. The serious look on her lover’s face bit back against the mounting dread, if only slightly. “It hurts, a lot. Constantly. I’m  _ always _ hungry, like I’ve never eaten in my life.”

Keila simply nodded. “I know, we’ve talked about it.” She sat up, wrapped the blanket to her form. “I’ve thought a lot about this. I don’t want to grow old and die without you, Marcy.” She tugged Marceline down for a kiss, chaste and simple. “At least think about it, okay?”

Unable to simply say ‘no’, Marceline nodded, then quietly added, “I’ll consider it.”

* * *

Marceline’s eyes flashed open, her breath fast and her heart hammering in her chest.  _ Christ, how long has it been? Two hundred years? _ She ripped her sheets off and stood, walking to her bathroom.  _ Gotta take my mind off her. _ A twinge of guilt flashed through her.  _ No.  _ The vampire bit back the painful emotion.  _ She said not to blame myself. _

She turned her shower as high as it would go, standing under the scalding water.  _ I need to focus on now. _ By the time she got out of the shower, her hot water had run out and she was shivering from the cold.  _ I need to keep going. _

She looked out her window before deciding whether to get dressed, then heard her phone sound a bright  _ ping _ from the other room.  _ I can’t let myself get that close to any mortals ever again. Hell, I really shouldn’t let myself get that close to anyone ever again. _ Bonnibel had heavily implied she should get a phone upon their first meeting, though she didn’t think she’d given anyone her number yet. Curiously, her phone said:

_ Bonnibel: Can I come over a bit early? _

_ Shit, today’s the day, isn’t it? Christ, I’m not in the mood for this. _ Still, she typed her reply before she could stop herself.

_ Marceline: Yeah, sure. I may be asleep when you get here but I’m easy to wake. _

The vampire laid on her couch, staring at the ceiling and attempting to reorganize her thoughts. She didn’t really expect to drift off to sleep. Her mind was still racing, trying to lock the images of Keila’s bright green eyes away once more. Despite her best efforts, though, her body - tired from the ineffective sleep she’d just gotten - fell into a fitful slumber.

* * *

Marceline looked down upon the sickly woman before her. “Kei...” Guilt wrapped itself like a knot around her throat, stopping her words.

“Marcy!” Keila’s voice, as excited as she was, betrayed her. It shook, weak and frail. “I’m fine. It’s just a fever.”

“How long has your health been failing?”  _ How long did you hide this from me? _

“Probably longer than I’m willing to admit.” She sat up, ignoring Marceline’s protests. The vampire rushed forward, sitting on the side of her bed and pulling her into a close hug.

“Kei, this room smells like death.” A familiar scent. Sickly sweet, with the faintest hint of rot.

“I’m not gonna die, Marcy.” Even as she said this, Keila’s body was wracked with coughs. The fit lasted several minutes, until she was wiping bloody mucus from her face. Hoarsely, she amended, “Well, maybe.”

A painful realization struck Marceline.  _ I can save her. In a way. _ She gripped the woman’s shoulders, looked her in the eye. “This?” She gestured to the bed, the room,  _ everything _ . “Or eternal hunger?”

“I thought you’d forgotten about that.”

“No- I. Was unwilling, but I can’t sit back and watch you die. Just give the word. I’ll do as you ask.”

“If you think I’m going to say anything other than ‘change me’, you’re an idiot.” Without hesitation, Marceline sank her fangs deep into the neck presented to her. The blood was bitter, tainted by illness and near-death, but still filled her with a rush of vigor. She tore herself away, watched as the pallid woman before her was renewed, changed.

Keila’s skin flushed with new life, her nails briefly elongated into black claws. Her eyes flickered deep red, then returned to their normal green. Immediately, she flung her hands up to her ears and slammed her eyes shut. Marceline cast several wards, deadening her senses greatly.

“C’mon, Kei. You can’t stay here anymore.”

“I know, I know. But...” a wicked smile broke across her face, “I’m kinda hungry, y’know?”

* * *

The scent of bubblegum washed through her dream, breaking the illusion enough to bring Marceline back to the world of the waking. She swiveled, sat up. Her voice still raspy from sleep, she said, "Hi Bonnibel."  _ Glad I didn’t have to finish that particular dream. _

"Marceline? You really were asleep - I thought you were joking."

"Oh, uh-" a yawn caught her by surprise, "no, I definitely have to sleep. Maybe slightly less often than you?"

"I guess that does make sense." Bonnibel stepped slowly, glancing over at Marceline more often than was really necessary.

"Do I have something on my face?"

"No, you just... look different. Yesterday you were blonde. And didn't have any piercings."

"Oh! Cool, you can see through the  _ Glamor _ now. It's this sort of subconscious self-defense something or other. I’m not really sure how it works."

“But I checked for a  _ Glamor _ and didn’t see one.”

“Yeah, I just call it that because I’m not sure what it’s really called. Basically it’s like the first few times I meet someone I look different. Kinda forgot to mention it, sorry.”

“Ah. I see.” Once she sat down, Bonnibel retrieved her laptop once more. “Are there any more not-quite-magic powers you have?”

“Well, let’s see. There’s  _ Suggest _ ?” The sorceress gave her a pointed look when she did not immediately continue. “Well, when I meet eyes with someone, I can give them simple suggestions of what they should do or allow. It depends on how strong-willed someone is. If they’re very stubborn or self-confident then using it will take a lot of effort and magic. If they’re not, I can change their mind entirely.”

“That is... very invasive.” She shifted uncomfortably. “Mind-affecting magic is illegal for a reason.”

“Yeah, I know. I try not to use it unless I need something desperately - blood, help getting out of public records, stuff like that.”

“That’s how you got me to sleep last time, isn’t it?”

“Um. Yes, but I honestly don’t think it would work if you were focusing.”

“Then should we try? I’ll do my best to ward you off, you try to  _ Suggest _ me.”  _ This is going to take a lot of magic... _

“Sure, I guess. If you don’t mind.” The vampire edged closer to Bonnibel, looked her in the eyes. “Then, if you would, type  _ Vampires are cool. _ ” The immediate drain on her magic made Marceline feel like using the power had been a mistake. The cold rush of energy flowed up and out of her eyes, where Bonnibel sat seemingly completely unaffected.

After nearly a minute, Marceline was forced to break the spell. “ _ Fuck _ you’re strong, goddamn.” Immediately, Bonnibel’s composure fell. She dropped her head to her hands and began rubbing small circles at the bridge of her nose, breathing deeply.

“ _ I’m _ strong? I haven’t had to try that hard in my  _ life _ . It was like every fiber of my being wanted me to just  _ type _ . Still, I think I could do that again if I needed to.”

“Well, it works better when someone already has an inclination to do something. Like if I were to  _ Suggest _ someone to kiss their lover, for instance.” Bonnibel quirked her head slightly, then typed something down.

“Now, to the rest of the meeting. Sorry for showing up early, by the way. I was in the area.”

“S’fine, s’fine. Company is nice right now. Go on and ask away, you know I’m an open book.”

“Then should we talk about classes of vampires? As a continuation of the basics.”

“Works for me, though I can’t promise I’ll be a ton of help. I never spent that much time around the others.”

“That’s fine. Anything - confirmation of existing beliefs, additions or alterations to that information, or completely new knowledge - is going to be useful, I assure you. That said, let’s start at the bottom. Bestial vampires?”

“Eugh, I hated those guys. Exactly what it says on the tin, really. Unable to use magic and barely sentient. They weren’t even affected by the sun.”

“Could they use their blood in the same way you could?”

“If they were lucky as fuck, I guess. They didn’t really think that much.”

“How did they come about?”

“Well, when a new vampire is sired, more often than not they are about one ‘step’ weaker than their sire - at least for the first few centuries. Those were created by the weakest of weak vampires feeding on very weak humans, without thinking ahead about siring. They were unable to feed enough to ever grow out of the ‘bestial’ stage.”

“Alright. I won’t ask you about standard vampires, they seem obvious. That said, what about the so-called Daywalkers?”

“Ah, yes. Fucking dicks, that’s what. Incredibly powerful, though. Through sheer strength alone they could shrug off the effects of the sun, without the help of magic. Their  _ Suggest _ could work without eye contact, and their physical changes were much more potent - strong enough to rend steel and fast enough to catch a bullet.”

“How on earth did they even die?”

“Hubris, basically. Imagine being three times as strong as you are now. Would you ever worry about anything, ever?”

“No.”

“Exactly. Staked while sleeping, mostly. Idiots.”

“That’s everything we know about. Anything to add?”

“Uh, me. I’m part of a very small group of vampires that actively grows stronger from feeding on creatures stronger than myself. Sometimes they give me unique abilities, too. Like the  _ Glamor _ thing came from a princess who was practicing a small amount of magic about... five hundred years ago?”

“So does that ‘strong’ mean physical strength or magical?”

“Both, really. Anyone who wields any significant amount of sway in the world. Political power counts, too.”

“How does that even  _ work _ ?”

“You’re not asking the right vampire, sorry.” Marceline stretched, laying out on the couch and letting her eyes close. “It’s kind of a hassle, really. A lot of the other vampires were scared I’d become strong enough to destroy them or fight them away from... hunting grounds.” She made a face. “Plus any vampire-positive immortals who find out... well, they don’t really look at me the same.”

“I could understand all of those reactions. But, in all seriousness, Marceline... would I make you stronger?”

“Oh, absolutely,  _ you _ may even make me strong enough to Daywalk.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because of this exact reaction.” Bonnibel had shifted, turning her eyes to Marceline’s form, the vampire could hear her heartbeat rising in tempo. “If I was going to bite you for power, I’d have done it while you were asleep last time, Bonnibel.”

“Right. Got it.”

“I can’t even sire vampires anyway, right? Not like I’d want to if I could.”

“...you’re right. Sorry.”

“No, I mean, I get it. I just don’t  _ like _ it.” She sighed. “Look, if you want to cancel this study then I understand.”

“I don’t want to. I’ve made my choice about this, Marceline.”

“Alright. Your hide if someone finds out you willfully made a Daywalker.”

“I’m prepared to deal with the consequences. Now, can I look at your fangs?”

“I’m sorry,  _ what _ ?”

“I want to take a closer look at your fangs. Before I guess they were hidden by your  _ Glamor _ ? Now I can see them when you talk, and I admit I am insatiably curious.”  _ She’s looking at my mouth? No, probably just looking at the changes, I guess. _

“I... guess so?”  _ How does she even plan to do this? _

“Then sit up.” Bonnibel stood, pulling Marceline to a sitting position, then leaned over in front of her.  _ Thank god she’s wearing a turtleneck. _ “Open your mouth, please.”

Marceline did as she was told, opening her mouth wide enough to reveal her fangs. Just about half an inch longer than normal human canines, and razor sharp to boot, they stood out enough to be noticeable.  _ This is kinda... really awkward. _

Bonnibel, for her part, appeared to be enjoying herself. Her eyes twinkled with fascination, and she spent exactly one minute staring into Marceline’s mouth.  _ Is her heartbeat speeding up? _ Her mouth moved almost imperceptibly, and normally even the vampire wouldn’t have been able to hear her. With their close proximity, though, Marceline heard,  _ “I want to touch them.” _

She chose not to respond, maintaining some of the sorceress’s dignity. Instead, she closed her mouth. “Sorry, jaw is starting to hurt.” It wasn’t a lie, just an omission of truth.

“Oh, uh, of course.”

“I hope you got... whatever you wanted out of that.”

“Yes, but for now I’d like to move on.” She sat, then began typing for several minutes of silence.  _ Now’s as good a time as any to try that type-reading thing, I guess. _

Marceline focused, like she would if she were hunting, and began watching each individual stroke of the keys. She was able to make out some words ‘vampire’, ‘fangs’, ‘blood’. By the third minute of reading, Marceline could keep up with most of what was being typed.

_ Vampire fangs are surprisingly similar to human canines. I expected them to be hollow, or at least grooved in some way. Instead, it appears their primary function is to provide a method for clean puncture wounds into the skin of the victim. Are you reading what I’m typing? _

Several seconds passed before Marceline realized that Bonnibel was giving her a curious look, and had stopped typing altogether. When the vampire looked up and tried to play it off by looking curious, Bonnibel simply repeated her statement out loud. “Are you reading what I’m typing?”

“That depends on if you’d be mad.”

“I’m going to assume that’s a ‘yes’, because the alternative is that you were just staring at my hands.”

_ Okay, maybe I was kinda watching your hands. Don’t have to call me out like that.  _ “Right, uh, sorry. Should I not? I was curious about what you’ve said so far.”

“I’d rather you not, since this is a personal draft that won’t be published. I’ll wash out all the personal opinions and random interjecting thoughts when I go to finalize it.”  _ Unsurprisingly professional. _

“Sorry, I won’t do it anymore.”

“It’s fine, I was done with that section anyway. Moving on, though, what does blood taste like to you?”

“Hm. Well, it’s still sort of metallic, but now it has a kind of sweetness to it - especially if the person is healthy. When they’re sick or dying,” Keila’s eyes briefly crossed her thoughts again, she grimaced, “it’s acrid or bitter.”

“Does that mean you get less energy from blood gotten from weak victims?”

“Not that I’ve noticed. That said, I don’t really make a habit of drinking from sick people - they don’t need any more hardships.”

Bonnibel paused, twisted her face in thought for a moment, then changed subjects, “Does the act of biting bring you any satisfaction?”

“Mostly the drinking part. Like I said last time, it’s addictive. A rush so high humans will never reach it.”

“Would you not say me drinking your blood could reach similar heights?”

“No, not even close. I had some vampire blood like you did, before I turned. It was incredible, but the taste of blood, the release of otherwise constant hunger... It’s indescribable.”

“I would imagine so. Does the smell or idea of blood accelerate your hunger?”

“Noticeably. If I can smell it, it’s especially brutal. Pretty much exactly what it’s like when you’re really hungry and waiting in line to get food, I guess?”

“I suppose I should’ve seen that coming. Can you drink stored blood?”

“Sorta? It’s not as effective, and it tastes stale. Plus it just isn’t that easy to get ahold of. Like... media about vampires always shows ‘someone on the inside’ who is ‘willing to pull strings to get me some blood’, but in reality it’s hard to do even when using  _ Suggest _ .”

“I figured it was something like that. Still, I know you don’t like feeding on people, so I was trying to think of something.”

“I’ve thought of a lot. I’d have to eat like once a week on stored blood. It’s better to take a few mouthfuls from someone healthy than take so much blood that could be used to save a sick person’s life.”

“Hm... guess so.” Bonnibel continued typing for several minutes, during which Marceline resumed her new hobby of staring at the girl.  _ But not her notes, that’s off-limits. _ Tonight, her hair was loose and flowed around her head like a pink wave, sometimes annoyedly tucked behind an ear or shifted to one side.  _ I wonder if she wore the turtleneck because she saw me staring last time? _ Her eyes, intensely focused, reflected the white page of the computer screen, but then she abruptly turned and locked eyes with Marceline.  _ Oh shit, fuck, she definitely saw that. _

“I think that’s everything we’re going to cover effectively this meeting.”  _ Christ, does she think I want to eat her? _

“Oh, uh, yeah. I guess. Wait, why?”

“You have seemed... distracted... this whole time.” She paused, briefly, then continued in a hushed voice. “You mentioned a name while you were asleep, right when I walked in. Keila? Is... everything okay?” Marceline’s stomach dropped, her blood ran cold.

Stiffly, she replied, “Yes, everything is  _ fine _ , Bonnibel. I’m sorry I’m out of it. Now, let’s get you home, it’s getting late, right?”

“Marceline, I’m sorry, but-”

“No, no buts. I don’t want to talk about it. Especially not with you.”

Bonnibel’s eyes narrowed as the vampire finished her sentence, and Marceline knew she’d made a mistake.  _ That was unnecessarily mean. She doesn’t even know how much it hurts to think about that. _ “Right, then, I’ll be going.”

“No, look- I’m sorry. Okay? I just... the memory hurts. It’s hard to talk about.” Marceline expected that to be the end of the conversation. Bonnibel would ignore her, walk out of the apartment, and not contact her for a week.

Instead, Bonnibel stopped. “Would you like to talk about it? It could be good for you to get it out in the open.” She turned to face the vampire eyes honest and pleading. “I know we haven’t known each other very long, but given how hard it is to make friends - for either of us - we may as well make the best of it, right?”

“I suppose you’re right.” Marceline sat on the couch, patted the spot next to her. “I think I’ll probably cry talking about this. Get over here and get ready to be hugged.”Awkwardly, Bonnibel sat close to her. “So, about... two hundred years ago, I met a mortal woman. Her name was Keila - you won’t find her in any history books or anything, though. She was kind and pleasant to be around, though really just a simple handmaid to a princess.

“She caught me feeding on her princess, but I used  _ Suggest _ to convince her not to call the guards. I told her we should talk, I would explain what was going on. Instead, I told her I was the princess’s lover. She laughed, loud and long, and let me know I was a terrible liar. Then she asked me whether I was a vampire, and I said yes, because obviously she could see right through me.

“She told me she’d keep my secret if I came to visit her in her quarters some nights. Over the course of a few months, we developed a close friendship. Then, eventually, a relationship.” She stopped, glancing at Bonnibel to see if she was listening, though the sorceress showed no emotion on her face. “Then, she told me she was actually the princess. The person I’d fed on was the handmaid. I panicked, y’know? Like, what the hell, we can’t be together, everything’s going to go to hell.

“Couldn’t keep myself away, though. Skip ahead a few years and I show up after a trip away to deal with some hunters only to find Keila deathly sick. Like literally coughing up blood sick. It tore me to pieces, I had no way to help - I can’t cast any kind of healing magic, right? And she was a princess, nobody would let her learn magic. It was ‘unsightly’ at the time. Plus with the ‘no royalty’ clause in the Council, well, she would’ve had to relinquish her title.

“Then I remembered that I could turn her. We had talked about it in the past. I said no at the time, because the hunger really is so strong that it’ll break most people, drive them mad. I didn’t want it to hurt her. But seeing her like that... I just couldn’t take it. I asked her, made sure she was okay with it.” Marceline stopped for some time, sobbing quietly. Bonnibel stiffly placed a hand on her upper back, rubbing in small circles.

“Of course I changed her, right? Who wouldn’t? I was in love. It went fine for a while. She fled home with me, we traveled the countryside and fed where we could. I let her eat more than me, just because I knew she would be struggling to cope with the hunger. Eventually, though, she snapped. She hit me - cut me with her claws.” The vampire raised her arm, pulled back the sleeve. “Still got the scar, vampire claw marks don’t heal like normal cuts do.” Five pale white parallel lines streaked across her forearm.

“After a lot of fighting, she chained herself-” the mental image made Marceline sob again before continuing through a tightened throat, “to a tree in the middle of a clearing. Made of something magical. Even I couldn’t break them. By the time the sun came up, I was out of strength from trying to save her. She fucking... threw me. Into the treeline. To protect me.

“I spent a full century regretting being born, but unable to die in any way I deemed painful enough. Eventually I came to terms with it. Moved on, in my own way. But sometimes I get blindsided by a dream, where I see her.  _ Hear _ her, chained to the tree under the sunlight. And all I can do is call out pointlessly.”

When it became clear that Marceline wasn’t going to continue, Bonnibel pulled her into an awkward hug. “I’m... sorry.”

“I mean, it’s fine. Like you said, it’s probably good to talk about it. I still feel like it was my fault, sometimes. That I could’ve saved her some other way. But the dosage of blood she would’ve needed to live through that... she definitely would’ve been a thrall. I couldn’t lose her to that, either. Learn healing magic? Maybe, but I don’t know how long she had left.”

“That kind of magic, to save her from that state... it would take months to learn. I don’t know if there was anything else you could’ve done.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for two hundred years, and I still regret not trying more before turning her. But she told me not to blame myself if it went poorly. I try so hard, but... I just don’t see how it wasn’t.”

“I think anyone would’ve done the same in your position, Marceline.”

The vampire simply hummed an affirmative, her voice tired from crying and talking. They sat for a long time, listening to each other breathe, calming down from the emotional stress. Eventually, Marceline pulled away. “You should go home, Bonnibel. You’re barely awake.” As if to emphasize her point, the sorceress in question yawned loudly.

“Okay, you’re right. Text me tomorrow, okay? Or else I’ll come here and make sure you’re still in one piece.”

“Yeah, I will. Night.”

“Goodnight.”

_ Why did I just agree to spill like that? Aren’t I supposed to be staying aloof and unattached? That was definitely attached. God damnit. Gotta talk to Jake. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I forget how emotional bonding works. The idea was that Marceline trusts Bonnibel more than she realizes, but I'm not sure if I nailed that like I wanted to.
> 
> Still, today is due day, so I made sure to get it done. I'm relatively happy with this. Hope I can find my footing better next time - this chapter had like 7 failed drafts lol
> 
> As per usual, leave a comment if you liked it.  
> Thanks for reading,  
> -J


	4. Chapter 4

Marceline found herself wandering the city with no real destination in mind. _What the fuck am I going to do?_ Sighing, she shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. Her knuckles brushed against the pack of cigarettes she’d bought a few weeks ago - she had yet to actually smoke any.

 _Ugh, Jake is gonna kill me if I smell like smoke._ Still, she fished them out of her pocket and used a small spark spell to light one. _I know talking to him is the right thing to do, but I don’t know if I’m up for being scolded right now._ The sun had just set, the chill of night barely beginning to creep into the air.

By the time she had finished her cigarette, the vampire found herself in front of the building currently housing Jake’s bar. _Did they ever name the place? Didn’t see one last time._ She took a deep breath and pushed open the door, this time prepared for the squealing hinge. A different clerk was behind the desk, she noted - this one much less attentive.

The door to Jake’s bar functioned properly now, and she found herself standing at the entrance in short order. _Now or never, I guess._ Marceline hesitantly stepped into the room - as empty as the last time she’d been here. “Uh, hey guys.”

“Marceline! Rare to see you more than once a year - what’s the occasion?” She could see him grimace when she neared. “I thought you kicked that particular habit?”

“Up until a recent, uh, new arrival. Sorry, I didn’t mean to come here. Just ended up in the area.” Marceline briskly walked over to the bar, sitting down. “But I’m not here for no reason, you’re right.”

A mischievous smirk lit up Jake’s face, “Lemme guess-”

“Bonnibel.”

“Falling harder than you thought you would?”

“Honestly, since-” She paused, swallowed back the lump in her throat, “I didn’t expect to _fall_ for anyone ever again. But it’s like... when I’m near her, I just wanna spill my guts.” Under her breath, Marceline added, “I even told her about Keila.”

“Shit. Serious, then?”

“Apparently fuckin’ so. I can’t stop staring at her, either - and it’s not just hunger, though I admit I’ve used a lot of magic recently.”

“Okay, and you’re here telling me this... why? I mean, you’ve never listened to me before.”

“I... know. I do kinda use you as a verbal punching bag - sorry about that.” She waved over at Finn, who simply nodded and began retrieving a series of bottles. “It’s just that I don’t even know if I can. Like. I really _need_ the source of blood. It would make life so much easier to have someone who consents.” Finn slid a glass full of a deep brown liquid in front of her. “But I don’t know if I can continue meeting her and not listen to my stupid heart.”

“Have you ever done anything else? If I recall, _you’re_ the one who courted a princess.”

“I’ve said before, I didn’t _know_ she was a princess when it started. Okay? Besides, she’s _why_ I don’t know if I can do this. I haven’t been involved with anyone in two hundred years, Jake.” Marceline took a sip from her drink, the bitter liquid warming her throat.

“In that case, I don’t think there’s any advice I can give, Marceline. If it really is such a big hurdle, then get your blood in a week and get out. Simple as. Otherwise, I’m sure you’ll do what you always do - figure something out.”

“Guess you’re right. As usual.”

“I mean, if it’s worth anything, I was wrong about one thing. You meeting with Bonnibel wasn’t a mistake. I haven’t seen you worry this much about someone other than yourself in years, Marceline.”

“That’s even _more_ confusing, Jake!”

In response, Jake simply shrugged. “You should get home, Marceline. It’s later than you think it is, I’m sure.”

She glanced down at her phone, seeing it read 5 AM. “Oh shit, you’re right. Barely gonna make it back.” Marceline stood, turning toward the door before pausing and looking back, “Thanks, Jake.”

“What else am I good for?”

* * *

Marceline was sitting, staring pensively at her door. _Okay. I think I should at least_ try _to give it a shot. Like Jake said, I haven’t been this... fixated on someone in a long, long time._ Briefly, her thoughts wandered to Keila. _I’m sure she’d want me to move on by now._

A knock at the door pulled her out of her thoughts, the faintest scent of bubblegum floating around the doorframe. _Might as well start by making the meetings less impersonal._ She approached the door to open it, but hesitated when she got close. There was Bonnibel’s perfume, sure, but it was undercut by a sour smell that made her stomach turn.

“Bonnibel?” Marceline focused, listening intently. The heartbeat was fast and nervous, and she could hear the sound of cloth shifting against itself. _An imposter? Why?_

A voice returned her call - the facsimile so close to Bonnibel’s actual voice that the vampire barely caught it. “Uh, yes, sorry I’m early.” Briefly, Marceline considered calling the imposter out. _Well, it could be a good idea to get familiar with whoever is trying to do this._ She pulled the door open slowly, listening for any signs of attack.

Instead, she was met with an - almost - perfect _Glamor_ of Bonnibel, right down to the way her hair curled a bit at the ends. The actor curtseyed cutely, then pushed her way into Marceline’s apartment. “It’s nice to see you,” ‘Bonnibel’ smiled so sweetly it made Marceline want to throw up, “Marcy.” _Don’t kill her, don’t kill her. She doesn’t know better._

“You too, Bons.” She guided them to the living room, falling onto the couch. “You were early last week, too, huh? Looking for reasons to see me?”

“Hah, you _wish_.” Fake-Bonnibel produced a laptop from a bag at her side, turning it on.

“Oh, come on, you didn’t say that _last_ time.” Marceline could see a confused look flit across the face of her imposter. _It’s okay to fuck with her a bit, yeah?_

“Oh- uhm.”

“I’m just messin with you, Bons. C’mon, you know I tease a lot. Now, what’s the agenda for this week?”

“I wanted to talk about, uh...” she looked down at her computer screen, “vampiric metabolism.” _But Bonnie would already know that, you dumbass. Do you have any info on what we’ve talked about?_

“Well, what specifically?”

“How, exactly, can you last a month without eating?”

“Very, very carefully. I’m always about to jump anything with a beating heart, y’know. Like right now every fiber of my being is telling me to just _drain you_.” Marceline watched the imposter flinch, then continued. “It has been nearly a month, after all. Next week is too fucking far away.”

“Y-yes, that is next week, isn’t it?” Fake-Bonnibel swallowed deeply. “Do please refrain from speaking on it too much. I have yet to prepare myself properly.”

They spent the next few minutes chatting about things Bonnibel already knew before the imposter stiffly closed her laptop. “That was... enlightening, as usual, Marcy. I have a very important call to make shortly.”

“Why not stay inside? I mean, I don’t have a problem with you using your phone - and it’s kinda chilly at this time of night.”

“I- I mean, it would be rude, right? Can’t do that.”

“Well, I’ll come out with you, keep you warm?” Marceline winked.

“ _That_ \- won’t be necessary, thank you.” _Stubborn fucker._

The vampire reached out, twisting Fake-Bonnibel towards herself, locking eyes. “Just stay for a little while. I promise I won’t get upset if you’re on the phone, Bons.” The power drain was almost negligible. _Wasn’t ready for it, if I had to guess._

“Uh, I guess so. I can stay for a tiny bit longer.”

 _If I can just stall for a little longer, Bonnie will show up. She’s always a bit early._ The two sat in silence for several minutes before Marceline noticed the imposter getting antsy, so she decided to distract, “So, who are you calling?”

“I’d really rather not discuss it - quite private.”

“Fair enough. Not hiding another lover from me, are you?”

Fake-Bonnibel spluttered and glared at her, “ _What?!_ ”

 _Okay, maybe a bit too much teasing._ “Sorry, sorry. You know I’m kidding, Bons.”

“That is-”

“I know, I’m sorry. I know you’re faithful.” _Yeah, no such thing as too much teasing._

“Marcy!” Then, three loud raps sounded at the door. The imposter froze, cursing under her breath, _“Fuck.”_

“C’mon in, Bonnibel!”

 _“You knew?!”_ Marceline simply tapped her nose in response, winking at the imposter.

“Hey Marcel- who is that?” Bonnibel froze, staring at her imposter.

“Dunno, but they showed up like... forty-five minutes ago. Pretending to be you and everything. Kinda sucks at it though. Sniffed her out before she even got in the door.”

“Uh- mistress Bonnibel, I’m sorry. Your parents-”

“Of course! Of course. Look, just go. And do remind them to _stay out of my business_.”

“Yes’m. Apologies, mistress Bonnibel, uh, miss Marcy.”

The vampire grabbed Fake-Bonnibel by the bicep as she tried to leave. “If you ever call me Marcy again, I will eat your heart.”

“Right! Going!”

After the imposter had scuttled out the door, Marceline and Bonnibel stood silently for several moments. “I didn’t think they’d start showing up until after the bite, honestly. Sorry I couldn’t warn you.”

“It’s fine, wasn’t so bad. Got to mess with her.”

“Oh, you didn’t tell her anything weird, did you? She’ll have been recording that whole conversation.” _Whoops._

“Nope, just some light teasing.” When Bonnibel gave her a pointed look, she crossed her heart. “Vampire’s honor!”

“Fine, fine. Let’s just... move on from all the unpleasant bits, okay?”

“Works for me. Got anything to talk about in particular tonight?”

“I was thinking of asking about Marceline the Person, rather than Marceline the Vampire.”

“Oh? I know I am a _fascinating_ subject.”

“Looking beyond that particular comment, I wanted to know about your early life, the turning, what it’s like.”

 _Oh._ “Yeah, fair enough. Ask away, Bons.” She saw Bonnibel crook an eyebrow, but the sorceress didn’t comment on the nickname.

“So, what was your life like before becoming a vampire?”

“Probably not far off what you’d imagine - a simple farmer’s daughter, brought up in expectation to be married off to someone for the sake of seven kids or whatever. Back then it wasn’t so easy to just be like ‘but being with a woman would suit me much better!’ so I was just kinda forced to go with it. Hell, I even technically got married. Just... never really did anything with it - the next night I was spirited away by a vampire.”

Marceline fought every curious instinct she had to not read Bonnibel’s text as she wrote. “The turning process was relatively painless, all things considered. I was used to being hungry a lot, so it wasn’t a huge shock when he told me I’d be hungry forever.”

“What was your sire like?”

“Kind of an asshole? I mean, he was a Daywalker, right? So he was all high-and-mighty and he kinda expected me to just... be a part of his... group... thing. No shade to poly relationships - they’re chill. His was creepy and gross, though. Not really... consensual.”

“I... see.”

“Yeah, we ended up in a few different fights about things before I figured out how to use my powers. Bailed on him, never saw him again. Did hear about it when he got staked, though. Can’t say I felt anything for him.” Marceline paused, shifted about on the couch some. “Something you may not have a ton of information on is being ‘blooded’.”

“I can’t say I’ve heard the term.”

“Well, a few different sources have gotten it right. Right after you turn, your hunger is completely uncontrollable - the strongest it’ll ever be. So you kinda go wild. Feed on anyone around, not caring if you kill them or not. It’s not as bad as it sounds, I guess. A lot of vampires don’t remember it at all. Some do. I do. One of the worst memories I’ve got, actually.”

“Well, I won’t ask you to relive it. Just knowing about the effect is enough.”

“Even for you, Bons, I’m not sure I would. That one’s not just about being closed off, either. Still haven’t dealt with it.” Bonnibel simply nodded in response.

Marceline allowed them to sit in silence, taking the opportunity to continue her new hobby of drinking in as much of Bonnibel as she could. Her hair was tied up in a messy braid, winding around the left side of her face. _Does she ever smooth it out?_ She had her brow furrowed in focus, smashing the backspace key to delete a sentence and try again. _“So cute...”_ The sorceress flicked her eyes up at Marceline briefly. _Shit, did she hear that? Fuck. Well, I was supposed to try, right? Still, complimenting her directly is a bit awkward._

Bonnibel’s silent typing stretched on for much longer than normal this time. Marceline decided strumming on her bass keep her from saying anything else accidentally. Once she had retrieved it, she began idly playing whatever came to mind - scales and bits of songs, mostly. _I should get back into composing._

“Do you play often?” The sudden question made Marceline jump slightly.

“Oh, yeah, tons. Just haven’t had much of a chance until very recently. Got a job at a music shop - I do tutoring sometimes. It’s enough to cover rent, and I don’t really spend much else.”

“I saw you holding it a few times, but I wasn’t sure if it was just to impress.”

“Oh, please. I don’t need any help impressing people.” Marceline flexed, laughing. Bonnibel rolled her eyes, stifling giggles all the same.

“Okay, okay. Refocus. Some sources say the turning process completely changes a person’s personality. How does that hold to your experiences.”

“Not that I’ve noticed. I’ve seen quite a few people be turned, and I was turned myself, of course. I mean, we may get a bit more outgoing or daring, since there’s not a ton to be scared about. But that’s normal for most people. A lot of the mages I’ve met were a bit different before they started practicing.”

“That’s fair enough. Immortality would have its perks.”

“Would?”

“I’m honestly unsure if I want to take the Immortality Ritual. It seems like a lot of trouble, and I’ve lived a lot longer than anyone really deserves to already.” A cold ball of dread set itself in Marceline’s stomach. “Magic is pretty much already figured out. At best, I could try to form a new school of practice, develop some of my own spells. That doesn’t really interest me much, though.” Bonnibel paused, a wry smile spreading across her lips. “You may be the last study I do.” _That idea is horrifying._

“Oh.”

“Yes, well. Moving on. I already know you don’t exactly _like_ being a vampire. Did that start from the beginning, or did it change at some point?”

“No, it was pretty much from the moment I was turned. My sire explained to me the very few ways I could actually die when I said I wanted to. I was too much of a chicken to sit under a sunrise, and when I’m in a fight my instincts always take over and make me protect myself.”

“There must be _something_ about it that’s worthwhile?”

“Not really. I mean, immortality and superhuman strength is nice for a while. Like you said, it’s all been figured out. Pretty much. The only unknown left is why I can’t sire any more vampires. But I’d really rather not know, and just accept it for the blessing it is.”

“Understood.” Bonnibel looked at her computer screen for several minutes, not typing, before closing it with a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry, I can’t really focus tonight. My parent’s _spy_ showing up really threw me off.”

“You’re free to hang around here for a while. Isn’t much to do, though. I don’t have cable, the TV is just for looks.”

“That’s fine. Honestly, this week has been a nightmare. I think I may try to sleep some. Away from all the hustle and bustle of the Council lodgings.”

“Alright. Sure you trust me to behave?”

“Like you said last time. If you were going to bite me without permission, you would’ve done it already. I believe you.” A warm feeling bloomed in Marceline’s chest. _Oh._

“Yeah, of course. You can, uh, use my bedroom if you want. It’s soundproofed, so you won’t hear me playing.”

“Hm. I think I will. Thank you.”

“Of course.” The door to Marceline’s bedroom shut moments later. _Fucking christ, what is wrong with that girl? I am a_ vampire _. She trusts me?_

She sighed, letting her head fall backwards to rest on the back of the couch. _I have no idea what I’m doing._

* * *

Bonnibel awoke around four in the morning, unsure of where she was. _Marcy’s house? Oh yeah. I guess I was more tired than I thought._ She turned, buried her face in Marceline’s pillow. _Try to sleep some more._ The door creaked open behind her, she tried her hardest to pretend to be asleep. _I trust her, but she hasn’t eaten in a while..._

Softly, Marceline’s voice called through the darkness. “Hey, Bons. You still out?” Her voice was shaking softly. _Nervous?_ The sorceress decided to stay pretending. Just in case. “I was, uh, too nervous to say anything to your face. And I kinda hope you don’t have some weird magic to remember what happens while you sleep or something.”

Bonnibel felt the bed sink slightly next to her. _Sitting down?_ “I, for one, hope you do the Ritual. I, uh, kinda already got attached. So. Yeah. Stick around for a while. Please.” She felt a hand lightly rub the blanket over her shoulder, then Marceline stood again. “I’ll wake you when it’s morning, Bons. G’night.” _Oh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And again, my awkwardly stunted emotional bonding has reared its ugly head. Also, I tried a POV swap? And I'm not sure if it was worth. But I always do them in other stories. This one was kind of a surprise to me, too. It just kinda happened.
> 
> I couldn't really get into the rhythm of this one. Felt off the whole time, still kinda does. Still, it's currently 22:30 here, and I can't really stay up all night rewriting. I promised myself I'd have these chapters out bi-weekly, and goddamnit I will.
> 
> As per usual, please leave a comment if you enjoyed. They really keep me going.  
> -J


	5. Chapter 5

Darkness seemed to cling to Bonnibel like a comforting blanket as she forced herself awake. The steady knocking of a servant’s hand at the door ripped her out of the final vestiges of her dream - her only recollection of which was a soft, woody scent and just the faintest hint of cigarette smoke. “I’m up, I’m up.” She sat on the edge of her bed, willing her body to get used to the biting chill of her room.

“Remember, Mistress, you have a meeting with the Council today.”

Sighing, Bonnibel answered, “Yes, thank you. Please let me dress first.”

“Of course, Mistress.” The quiet padding of feet on the plush rug of the hallway gave her enough confidence that she was alone to stand and dress, finally.  _ Today’s the day, huh? _ Marceline’s image - the real one, not the one she’d initially grown to know - flashed into her mind. The heavily pierced face ( _ Five in each ear, one in her left eyebrow, one in her right nostril, her septum, and a labret piercing. _ The sorceress couldn’t help but twist her face in annoyance as she recalled all of them.  _ I should really stop staring. _ ), the infuriatingly casual smile that made her fangs tug at her lower lip, the seemingly constant state of relaxation.

Finally, she flicked her wrist and sent a spark of magic to the light in her room, illuminating it.  _ Wonder what the Council wants? I mean, it’s obviously something to do with Marcy. _ She pushed open the thick oaken door of her bedroom, stepping into the hallway. This early, Bonnibel was usually alone in the twisting corridors of the Council lodgings.

The sorceress meandered her way over to the kitchen, walking at a leisurely pace she never would otherwise use. There, a few flicks of magic set a kettle to boil and turned on the toaster.

Bonnibel managed to eat in relative quiet, her meal only being interrupted once toward the end - another servant, reminding her to report to the Council chambers. “Okay, I’m on my way.”

The giant double doors that separated the Council from the rest of the buildings were always imposing, moreso now that she was being summoned personally. Still, she raised her hand and knocked lightly on the solid wood, listening to the sound reverberate through to the other side. After a stiff moment, the doors swung open of their own accord and Bonnibel stepped into the chilly air of the auditorium.

Ten figures, cloaked in thick blue robes that concealed their bodies and faces, sat around her in a semicircle some twenty feet away. She walked, careful not to let her nerves show, into the center of the Council, and inclined her head in a slight bow. “For what have I been summoned, Council?”

After nearly a minute of tense silence, during which Bonnibel made no movement or sound, she was answered by a figure to her right. “Bonnibel Butler. We have requested you here to ask about your recent activities.”  _ Of course, there’s literally no other reason to bother me. _ “It is no secret that you are meeting with a being that claims the title of The Last Vampire. We have spoken about this course of action once before, but recently some new information has come to our attention.”  _ What new information? You knew about the terms, the biting tonight. _

“What information is this? As far as I am aware, the terms of my agreement with Marceline have not changed.” She watched the figures fidget at the mention of the vampire’s name. “She will be taking her first feeding from me tonight, and we will continue our interviews until my study is satisfactorily complete.”

“Recently, we have gained knowledge that the vampire and yourself may be... romantically involved.” Bonnibel couldn’t help herself - she closed her eyes and sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I am not. We are, admittedly, closer than I expected us to get. But at the moment we are nothing more than close friends.”

“Our recent investigations have turned up evidence suggesting that the vampire believes the two of you to be significant to one another.”  _ She said she didn’t say anything weird. Dang it, Marcy. _

“I will have a discussion with Marceline when I get to her home tonight. To clarify that we are not, in fact, involved.”  _ She is important to me, though. _

“We urge you to cut contact with this vampire, Bonnibel. Your status as such a powerful sorceress-”

“Is  _ not _ something I will let you hold over my head. I am not a child, and I am capable of making my own decisions, status or not.”

The silence which filled the next several minutes was palpable as Bonnibel stood, unmoving and silent, awaiting their response. Eventually, they rose. “Then, this meeting is adjourned. Thank you for your attendance, Bonnibel.”  _ As if I really had a choice. _

“And I thank you for having me.” The sorceress turned on the spot, briskly walking to the double doors. Frustrated when she reached them and they were not open yet, she raised her hand and forced them to open with magic. “By the way, reapply your door opening enchantment. It’s getting slow.”

* * *

The cold air of the winter bit through Bonnibel’s jacket and she regretted not bringing a thicker one. Surreptitiously, she cast a small spell to heat the air around her and sighed in contentment.

After jogging up the stairs quickly, she pushed on the center of a wooden door and greeted the clerk behind the counter with a small wave. In the same motion, she made an illusion of herself walking in the opposite direction she was now headed, distracting the overly helpful clerk.  _ C’mon. Still here? _ A firm tug pulled open a hidden door, revealing a rough-hewn hole in the stone behind the building.  _ Score. _

“Jake! Finn!” Bonnibel stepped hastily into the bar. “How have you two been?”

“Bonnibel! Great! Stopping by for a drink?”

“Still don’t drink, Finn. Good try, though.” Jake’s arm wrapped around her in a crushing hug. “Hi, ow.”

“Where have you been? Only reason we knew you didn’t die was all the news about Marceline.” Jake dragged the two over to some barstools near Finn.

“You know Marceline?”

“Known her since before you were casting sparks!”

“And you didn’t think it would be a good idea to reach out - tell me you have some information on her?”

“Seemed like you had it handled!”

“I... guess? This is weird, sorry, I was under the impression that Marceline didn’t really... talk to people.”

“She doesn’t, really. Only comes in to talk about stuff sometimes. Like when she has a problem she can’t puzzle through on her own, or when she’s frustrated.”

“Well, at least she doesn’t... keep it all bottled up.”

“Poor girl does have a habit of that. So much guilt she tries to bear on her own.”

“Yes. She... told me. About Keila.”

“Not just Keila - although she was by far the biggest emotional blow Marceline had suffered in centuries. She blames herself for all the hunters and their crusades, too.”

“What? Why?”

“If she’s telling the truth, her blooding was the reason the hunters started actively seeking vampires to kill. Though I imagine some other reasons compounded it.”

“Do you... know? About her blooding?”

“No. She hasn’t told anyone, as far as I know. Sometimes she gets drunk and talks about herself more than she normally would.”

“I see.” The group sat in silence for some time, waiting for someone to break the serenity.

“Well, anyway, you didn’t come in here just to talk about Tall, Dark, and Brooding, did you?”

“As I’m sure you know, tonight is supposed to be the first time that Marceline... feeds from me. I am uncharacteristically nervous.”

“You’ve never been one to shy away from pain, Bonnibel. What’s going on?”

“I am, admittedly, worried about being turned. Marceline told me about using vampire blood to temporarily ward off a turning, but I doubt its efficacy.”

“Want me to tell you how many people she’s turned?”

“If you think it may assuage my fears.”

“One. Keila.”  _ Oh. _ “And since then she feeds as little as possible, constantly weaker than she should be. Is it true that she can’t turn anyone anymore?”

“As far as I am aware, it’s true. She seemed relieved.”

“Then why are you nervous?”

“I... don’t know.” The realization hit Bonnibel like a sack of bricks to the chest. “I have no idea why I’m nervous.”

“I imagine you’ve gotten pretty close with Marceline, if she’s told you about Keila.”  _ Are you... deflecting? Rude! _

“It was due in no small part to some insistence from me. I came in to see her sleeping fitfully, saying the name. So I asked, told her it would probably be good to get it out in the open. She seemed to agree. I... honestly thought it was a mistake. She seemed distant during our last meeting.”  _ But that was because she was scared of getting close, right? _

“Marceline tends to draw away when she’s worried about messing something up. Something like ‘better to not do anything than to make a mistake’.”

“I can’t say I agree with the sentiment, but I understand it.”

“It’s about time for the evening crowd to come in, Bonnibel. Don’t you have a date?”

“An appointment, yes.” She stood, smiled politely at the two men by the bar. “Thank you, I suppose. Do you always offer personal advice to your patrons?”

“Only my friends. And besides, you didn’t even buy anything.” Bonnibel had no response to that, so she turned to leave.

* * *

Bonnibel stood in front of Marceline’s apartment complex for several minutes before she gathered the courage to approach the door. Even though she had been in a similar position earlier today - with the Council, no less - she felt infinitely more terrified here. Standing in front of a simple door with a passcode lock which she knew the combination to.

Seconds turned into a full minute. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, a reminder that she had five minutes before she’d be late. With a deep breath, she punched in the numbers and entered, too frazzled to think of politeness. When Bonnibel looked up, she saw no traces of Marceline apart from her bass abandoned near the couch, stood against the edge of the armrest.

“Marceline...?” She spoke softly, taking care not to potentially hurt the vampire’s ears. The piercing pain of overly-sensitive hearing was still fresh on her mind. Steadily, she took steps into the living room.  _ Asleep? _

The only other rooms in the apartment were the bathroom and the bedroom. She flicked the lights on, seeing the bathroom door wide open and vacant. The bedroom, however, was shut and upon attempting to enter, Bonnibel discovered the door to be locked.

The sound of a muffled cry - of pain or otherwise, Bonnibel couldn’t tell - and she made the snap decision to unlock the door with magic.  _ Better to ask forgiveness than permission. _ She threw the door open to see Marceline laying on the bed, twisted in an unnatural way.

Her arms were covered with cuts of all sizes - a particularly nasty one ran the full length of her bicep - and she was making an expression of intense pain. Immediately, Bonnibel rushed forward, tapping the vampire on the face lightly with the palm of her hand. “Marceline? C’mon, wake up.” The sound of her own heartbeat drowned out anything she could’ve heard, but she still saw the panicked rise and fall of Marceline’s chest.

Another - spasm? she wasn’t sure what to call it - wracked Marceline, her claws, extended as though in a fight, raked her own arm with fresh wounds. “Marceline, come on!”

She grasped the vampire by the shoulders and shook lightly, taking care not to jostle her wounded arms. “Marceline!”

Marceline’s eyes flashed open, irises painted a deep blood red, and her arm flashed out - faster than Bonnibel could track - to whip her claws at the sorceress’s head. Thankfully, Bonnibel was faster, barely, and her magic stopped the claws just short of her own temple. “Marceline, come on. It’s me.” She didn’t dare move.

They sat like that for a very long time, Bonnibel’s heart racing as though she’d just run a marathon, and Marceline’s arm straining against the protective ward.

The person sat in front of her, murderous intent clearly etched onto her face, was not Marceline. She was animalistic. Hungry. Desperate. Her lips were curled back in something like a snarl, fangs proudly on display, and she would periodically shout in frustration as she tried to push past the magical barrier once more. Her other arm was latched to the bed by a similar ward, a much safer distance away from Bonnibel’s flesh.

Beyond the initial fear, Bonnibel felt worry. “Marceline... Please, come back.” A gentle sob wracked her body.  _ Did I make her wait too long to feed? She did say that it would get worse if she used too much power... Oh no, did her using  _ Suggest _ on me push her over the edge? _ “I’m sorry, Marcy...”

For the first time in nearly an hour, something other than primal rage filtered through Marceline’s features. Slowly, the red bled away from the edges of her irises, and her arm stopped straining against the magic. Then, she dropped her arms to her sides and instead wrapped her arms around Bonnibel’s shoulders in a crushing hug. “Bonnie...” Relief washed over Bonnibel in a wave, and she found herself crying for different reasons - joy, namely.

“Yeah. It’s me, Marcy.” The sorceress returned the hug, ignoring the screaming of her bones to release some tension. Her arms gingerly wound themselves around Marceline’s waist, pulling slightly.

“I-... I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’ve said you have nightmares before - I didn’t realize how bad they got. I should’ve been more prepared.”

“But I almost  _ killed _ you, Bonnie.”

“ _ Almost _ . I’m a tough cookie.” She winced as Marceline pulled a little tighter. “Maybe not that tough.”

“Shit- sorry.” Marceline made a move to pull away, held in place by the arms gently encircling her waist. They were sitting facing each other, hip to hip. “I just. I was dreaming. And I thought I was in the Sanctum, when-” The vampire swallowed a sob. “When the hunters attacked for the first time. And I just couldn’t shake the fighting instincts when you woke me up.”

“Really, it’s okay, Marcy.” A sticky wetness seeping through her shirt made Bonnibel squirm. “Let’s get you patched up some, okay? You said cuts from vampire claws don’t heal fast, right?” The sorceress stood, pulling Marceline behind her to the bathroom. She stayed quiet for the duration of the trip.

Bonnibel set about the task of healing Marceline’s cuts, knitting flesh back into form and smoothing out any lingering scars. The entire process took nearly two hours, during which the vampire said and did very little.

Finally, Bonnibel sat back and breathed a sigh of relief, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Job well done, I’d say.”

“Are you going to be okay? Using all that magic at once, then... I can go get blood somewhere else for the night, Bons.”

“No, I’m fine. Really. It’ll take a lot more than that to keep me down.”

“I just... You don’t look great, Bons.” A hand gently pats her on the shoulder. “You look like you’ve just run two or three marathons.”

“And I feel like I could run two or three more. You’re not getting out of this, Marceline.”

“Can we at least relocate?”

“I’ll fix up your sheets and clean them out later. How does the couch sound?”

“Fine. Just... the bathroom smells like antiseptic. Makes me wanna vomit.”

Shakily, Marceline stood and led them back to the couch. “Are... are you sure you want to do this? It’s not too late to back out, Bonnie.”

“If anyone here is trying to back out, it’s you. You need this right now, Marceline. You trying to hunt right now would be a disaster and we both know it.”

Sighing, defeated, Marceline patted the spot next to her. “Let’s get it over with, then.”

Bonnibel shrugged off her jacket, then sat next to the vampire. “Any preference for location?”

“Wrist, usually.” The sorceress rolled up her sleeve in response, presenting her arm.

When Marceline gripped her thumb and pulled her arm close, Bonnibel couldn’t help but flinch slightly. Immediately, Marceline released her hand. “Nope, not if you’re not totally okay with it. I will go and force myself-”

“Marceline! I am literally sitting here, consenting to you drinking my blood. Isn’t that what you’ve been looking for for centuries?”

The vampire’s response is quiet. “Yes.”

“Then let’s just do it. Don’t forget to dose me with your blood, though.”

“Fuck, you’re right, I was about to forget that.” She raised her hand to her mouth, split her thumb on a fang. “Here.” The wound was already closed, but a small drop of blood still sat at the end of Marceline’s thumb.  _ Does she expect me to... lick it off of her? _ She briefly made eye contact with Marceline, who raised her eyebrows expectantly.  _ Well, here goes nothing. _

Bonnibel leaned forward, face on fire from an intense blush, and gingerly licked the drop of blood from Marceline’s finger. The effects this time were not nearly as potent - her breath quickened, her pulse nudged slightly higher, but she wasn’t in pain from the sensory overload. She looked up again to see Marceline’s face matching her own redness.

“I, uh. Expected you to.  _ Ahem. _ Use your finger.” Bonnibel literally smacked herself in the face.

“Right. Got it.” Instead of lingering on the embarrassment, she shoved her wrist in Marceline’s face once more. “Now, bite.”

Again, slender fingers wrapped gingerly around her thumb and pulled her close. The sorceress forced herself to watch ( _ for the sake of the research _ ) as Marceline’s mouth opened slowly, fangs merely an inch from her skin. They made eye contact once more, the vampire looking for one last confirmation, and Bonnibel nodded.

She expected many things from her first vampire bite. Pain, numbness, maybe even coldness. Nothing she had ever imagined prepared her for the rush of pleasant warmth that spread across her arm and into the left side of her torso. There was, of course, the slight sting of pain as the fangs broke flesh, but beyond that it was an overall good experience.

Marceline’s eyes were closed in bliss, savoring the moment. Bonnibel felt an unfamiliar emotion well up in her chest, seeing the girl so happy after such a rough start to the night.  _ Good. _ The bite lasted longer than she thought it would - nearly a full minute of uninterrupted silence.

The wet  _ pop _ sound of Marceline removing her mouth from Bonnibel’s arm was almost deafening. They met eyes once more, and Bonnibel gave her a soft smile. “See? Doing just fine.” She would not deny the exhaustion pulling behind her eyes if Marceline asked.

The vampire did not let go of her arm. Instead, she smiled and tugged gently, pulling Bonnibel over in front of her as she laid down on the couch. “You spoiled me. Now I get to spoil you.” The words were whispered into her hair and she couldn’t help but wonder who was really being spoiled here, but the tiredness pulled more insistently at her mind and she gave in to the darkness of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy! I actually am pretty fucking happy with this one. Plus who doesn't love cuddles after being bitten by your vampire friend?
> 
> Now we'll start to get into the real romance part of the story, I promise. Everything was leading up to that first bite, and I needed it to feel like a sufficiently big moment. Hope I did it justice.
> 
> As per usual, please leave a comment if you enjoyed. They really keep me going.  
> Thanks for reading,  
> -J
> 
> EDIT 2/19/2020  
> I am in the process of packing to move away from my transphobic and homophobic family. So, I won't be able to post a chapter this week - I have to get everything out of the house in ~3 days. Sorry everyone, I hope you can all forgive me.


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